Calling Your Name
by Rhysati Ynr
Summary: When life gives you lemons, some people are able to turn them into lemonade. Sadly, this wasn't the case for a young man named Jason Skirosa. Join him as he tries to find his place in the world...which simply starts by the calling of his name. OCxOrig T
1. Calling Your Name Introduction

Calling Your Name

Written by Rachel E Hayler

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything involved with the WWE. The characters mainly featured in this story that you haven't heard of before are from my imagination and those of my friends. Believe me, I wish some of these people were real, but I have to settle for them being in my mind. So please, no stealing them. OH! This is is my first attempt at anything WWE...so be nice to me, eh? xD  
**  
Dedication: **I would like to dedicate this fanfic to the members of my WWE Roleplaying Forum, aptly named just that. I'll try to get some of your characters in here, guys, I promise. I apologise sincerely if I get any of their personalities wrong. =X  
**  
Synopsis: **When life gives you lemons, some people are able to turn them into lemonade. Sadly, this wasn't the case for a young man named Jason Skirosa. Join him as he tries to find his place in the world...which simply starts by the calling of his name.

Lots of origXoc in this, I'm afraid. Although some of you may enjoy the pairings that my friends and I have come up with.

**Go on, then!  
Read Chapter 1. **


	2. Chapter 1: Rude Awakening

Chapter 1:

Rude Awakening

Three punches thudded hard into the punching bag before him, causing it to swing so violently that the chain it hung from groaned in angry protest. The first punch had been for the mass of student debt that he had stacked up. The second had been for that cheating bitch he had called the love of his life. The third had been the angriest one of them all, an outlet for all of his failings from the past couple of months.

Yes, it was fair to say that this young man had been going through a lot of shit recently. Hell, Jason Skirosa didn't even know what was up or down most days.

He had been booted out of medical school when his grades hadn't reached the part of his practical skills, been cheated on and kicked out by his ex-girlfriend. He was now sleeping on his brother's kitchen table. The couch was occupied by a friend of theirs that had suddenly decided to come and stay - with perfect timing, of course. Nothing had been going right for him; the few parts of his life that he had treasured were never going to come back again. How the fuck could he have gotten so low?

Shaking out the cramp from his hands and wrists, he crouched down to retrieve his water bottle. Well, the liquid within it was far from being H2O. As he raised the bottle to his lips to swig at the little pick-me-up within it, he felt the liquid burn down his throat as he surveyed his surroundings. Some folks around here called it the gym. He rather affectionately named it the hell hole. It was just another rude awakening into the crap he'd fallen in to.

In truth, the "Gym" was just a utility closet that had been big enough to sport a punching bag. Every time a person stepped back, or didn't time their swing correctly, their hands could connect meatily with a solid concrete wall mere inches away. It was fair to say that he had suffered from many grazed knuckles over his time working at All Star Wrestling, but that as always was the least of his concerns.

All Star Wrestling was not the most glamorous of places to work. The hours were at best described as being random - whenever the show was granted a television slot, the "General Manager" would leap at the chance to secure it. It often reminded Jason of being on call, as he would have been had he completed medical school. When he got that magical phone call demanding his presence as the "arena", he was expected to be there within the hour. Lack of sleep was never an excuse. The make-up team could hide the bags under his eyes, but his performance couldn't hide the physical exertion he was being put under. Yet, he was still rising into the ranks of being one of the shows biggest stars.

The small wrestling company had started off as an illegal fight club that had called a rundown basement in a bar its home in downtown Las Vegas. On a good night, 50 people could have squeezed around the ring to watch people beat the stuffing out of each other. It had just started out hosting boxing tournaments for anyone that wanted to release some tension, but as the popularity had grown it had expanded to cover Tae Kwon Do, Brazilian Cage Fighting and finally wrestling. All of these sports had attracted fans in their own rights, but none had been as crowd pleasing as the latter.

In light of this, the "General Manager" had gained the rights he needed to properly let his business soar. Now All Star Wrestling had risen from obscurity and grabbed a television audience.

There were some at this place who were here for their love of wrestling - Jason's rather naive older brother was one of them - but many were just here to earn the pay cheques and go home. The show wasn't large enough to travel around such as shows like Total Non-Stop Action or even the world famous World Wrestling Entertainment. This was convenient for the "superstars" as most of them lived close to the sports arena they worked at. So which of these categories of people did Jason fall in to?

It was most definitely the latter. Growing up, he had grown up in a travelling circus that had been passed down through the generations of his family. It was only when he had had dreams of becoming a doctor that his father had finally settled down and allowed him to attend college and get the grades that he needed to attend medical school. He'd never dreamed of stepping into a ring and inflicting pain on people, especially when he had pledged to help those that were in it.

It may have sounded arrogant, but Jason knew he was good at this. He quite often told people as much. This over-confidence had often gotten him to kiss ring mat, but he had trained himself to see everything now as a learning curve. Wrestling was now the only constant in his life – and as much as he may have despised it – he knew he was thoroughly addicted. He wanted to get to the top of his game. If that meant he had to go through hell and back to get it, then so what? He was certainly practised at it.

Whenever he stepped into the ring, his mind set would completely change – almost as if he became an entirely different person. He would become dispassionate and utterly focused on the fight. Maybe that was why he had gained such a fan base? But this wasn't the reason why he had earned his "Wrestling Nickname" of "The Heart Stopper".

That nickname was left up to the imagination of anyone that heard it.

"Hey, Jay," someone called from above his crouched position. A pair of electric blue, neon green and black cargo print trousers blocked his line of sight around the "Gym".

Only one person in the world called him "Jay". He had never had the heart to tell that person how much he despised it.

"Hey, Kit," Jason muttered, craning his head back to regard the person towering above him.

Kingdom Skirosa, better known as "Kit" narrowed his dark brown eyes on him. He was Jason's older brother, the one who had encouraged him to come to ASW, the one who had allowed him to sleep on his kitchen table. In other words, he was the rock in Jason's life that kept him stable, not just his brother but also his best friend. As naive as he was, he had a stubborn streak that plagued all the members of their family. It seemed that this trait was showing through now.

"Jack wants to see you," Kit said with evidence of disgust in his voice. "Script discussions."

Script discussions? Fantastic. What sort of mess was he going to be put through now? If it was another romantic storyline, he might shove the script down the old man's throat and be done with it.

"Whose dreams am I crushing today?" Jason groaned, hopping up and taking another swig from his 'water' bottle. Dutch courage never hurt anyone.

"No idea." Kit gave him a knowing smile and plucked the water bottle from his hand, then gave him a "shooing" gesture. "You'd better protest if Jack plans on crushing my dreams."

Jason patted him on the shoulder and squeezed past his brother as he headed back out into the corridor. He squared his shoulders and then headed left in the direction of the "General Manager's" office.

He swore he could hear trouble calling his name. He swore it.


End file.
